So, I must preface this post by saying: Sorry, Woodstock, this is not about you. I must also say that this is not an anti-man post.
That being said: What is up with men? Really, sometimes, what are they thinking?
The guy who lives upstairs in our apartment building thing - I'll call him upstairs guy, same as I do here - has been a slight sense of contention with me almost since he moved in. But it really started to bother me after the deployment started. No one told me when the trash was to be picked up in our town. No one told me the difference between the plain black trash can and the one with the green letters on it that reads "bio-tonne." But I figured it out. Pretty easily too. Wait for the Germans to do something, then do the same thing. As for the bio-tonne, there were pictures on it, for goodness sake. So, weeks go by and upstairs guy is filling up the trash can with his trash, but for some reason, I'm the one dragging the trash can to the curb every Tuesday night. So, I do what you would expect. I talk to him about it.Tell him the schedule. Say we can alternate week to week, because, HELLO, it's his trash too. So, I guess the week we talk is my week. Then two weeks later, it still seems to be my week. Then a month later, OK, maybe he went to the field or something.
Sure, the trash isn't a big deal, but it started to get on my nerves more and more. First of all, wtf? Isn't that man's work? Second, this dude puts all kinds of plastic into the trash, I'm talking milk cartons, juice bottles, the whole nine. If we recycle, 3 trash bags can fit into our little trash can, which brings me to the third of all: he stacks the bags on top of each other, kinda standing up, making it possible for only 2 bags to fit. Everyone knows you have to turn the middle one to the side, punk! And I'm not even gonna start on when I went to the states and when I got back the trash cans were in my parking spot like he doesn't know where they go, and that same week he obviously threw away all the trash he had laying by his front door and filled up the can so I had to take my trash on post. Oh, um, well I guess I did get started.
Now, I must say here that I did think for a mere moment that perhaps my control freak nature took the trash out BEFORE he could get the chance to and he was merely waiting for the opportunity. SO ... I gave him the chance and didn't take the trash out at my usual 8 p.m. or so on Tuesday. And ... yes, you guessed it. Trash didn't get picked up that week.
Despite the twice a month annoyance I get from this, I'm pretty used to the trash thing by now. But the final straw was this week. I get home one night and the light bulb in the entryway is out. I'm thinking this dude has got to notice this. I mean, I walk straight to my door, but he has to go up some winding stairs to get to his door. So I wait it out. Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday; yeah .. still nothing. This MF got the nerve to go in and out of the house all those days - days, 2 of which I left home at 8 and got back at 9 or 10 that night - and couldn't change the freaking light bulb. So I did what any other woman would do. At 1030 at night, I noisily changed the lightbulb.
So my question is: whats up with this guy? Is it because he's young ( I assume he's early 20s)? Unmarried? An A-hole? What?
Because so far, all he does is make a lot of noise when he leaves for and comes back from PT in the morning.